


Elements Of A Love Story

by Call_Me_Mrs_Rogers



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Meddling Bucky Barnes, Meddling Sam Wilson, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Shy Steve Rogers, Steve Being A Cute Lil' Bean Dorito, XD, idk what else to tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-07 07:48:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21454543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Call_Me_Mrs_Rogers/pseuds/Call_Me_Mrs_Rogers
Summary: Y/N hasn’t been around all that long but somehow Steve fell head over heels for her. Now all he has to do is gather the courage to ask her out. How hard can it be?(SPOILER: It’s hard.)
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 25





	1. Miscommunication

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, this is just a cute lil' reader fic that I wrote when I was bored in class. It was supposed to be a random never-to-be-seen oneshot but I've scrapped that and am turning it into a series! Enjoy my lovelies!

Y/N L/N. Brave, compassionate, beautiful. That’s what Steve thinks, anyway. Not that you knows, of course, that would be ridiculous. How could you ever love someone like him? Someone so damaged by time and war. Someone so broken beyond repair. No, it’s best for you if he just forgets about it. Except that he can’t…

His thoughts cause him to stumble on the treadmill and you look up, slipping your headphones from your ears. “You good, Rogers?” you ask, as you slide into the splits. 

He just blinks at you and you laugh softly, “Okay?”. 

“Sorry… sorry, yeah, I’m fine,” he stutters, feeling a blush creep up is neck to his cheeks. 

Giving him a half smile, you put your headphones back in and duck your forehead down to your toes, holding your ankle with both hands. A little groan escapes your lips and Steve dies a little inside. Shaking his head to himself, he steps off the treadmill and wipes his forehead with a rag. After shrugging on a checked over-shirt, he steals one last glance at you before walking out and making his way upstairs. Steve finds Bucky sipping a glass of water in the kitchen, his whole body dripping with sweat. “Hey, Buck, you good?” Steve asks, taking a glass and filling it. 

“Uh, no. Nat’s drilling me  _ hard.  _ God, does that assasin never take  _ breaks?  _ Four _ hours  _ we’ve been going at it.  _ Four hours!”  _ Bucky whines, leaning against the counter opposite his best friend. “What about you?”

“Y/N’s downstairs,” Steve replies simply, blushing when Bucky gives him a knowing smirk. “Oh, can it, you. Nothing’s going to happen. She’s my colleague.”

“Who’s your colleague?” a voice cuts in. Steve whips his head to the door to see you striding in, wearing your confidence like a jacket. 

“Uh, Sharon,” Bucky blurts out, and Steve shoots him a glare. Your eyebrows furrow slightly and Bucky wiggles his eyebrows at Steve. 

“Huh,” you say, walking around the island and hopping up onto the counter. “So you like Sharon?” 

“Um,” Steve wavers, giving you all the answers you need, or so you thought. 

“That’s… cool,” you reply, aiming for nonchalance but falling short. 

The truth is that you were hoping that he meant you. You may have developed a small crush on the super-soldier. Everybody saw him as this invincible, burly, strong guy, but that wasn’t what you liked about him. At least, that wasn’t the  _ only  _ thing you liked about him. You loved the way he would revert back to his 40’s self when he was alone or with Bucky. The way he would get super excited when he finally conquered another app. The way he made awkward jokes that didn’t really make sense but you laughed anyway. The way he would absentmindedly hum the tune and sway his hips every time Count Basie played on the Swing Radio Station. The way his lips would move with the words as he read his favourite books. You adore the shy, intimate Steve Rogers that lives inside the current one. 

So yeah, it hurt that he liked Sharon but had never noticed you. Then again, you were never one to attract attention dating wise, it just never happened for you. You’d learnt to live with that, it hadn’t bothered you much because you’d never been interested anyone, not really. At least until you met Steve, who was currently staring at you curiously. You were suddenly aware that he had asked you a question and was waiting for an answer. 

“I’m sorry, what was that?” you ask. 

“D’ya maybe wanna join us for a movie tonight?” Steve repeats, hope sparkling in his eyes. 

“I’ll have to check my schedule,” you tell him, still hurt from his Sharon confession. You miss the way his shoulders slump in dejection, the corners of his mouth turning down. 

“Oh,” is his simple reply. 

“Yeah sorry,” you say. Coming off the counter, you grab an apple and go to your room to return to the world of  _ Me Before You.  _


	2. Sometimes It Hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never leave Y/N alone with a tower of romance books and her thoughts. Thank God Sam is there with his not so great ideas!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I suck for updating so late but I've just been a little busy. You'll be happy to know that I've finally got my Quotev account up and running again! Check it out, username: Call Me Mrs Rogers.  
Or just search AsinaKS!
> 
> *NOT PROOF-READ*

There’s something inherently magical about re-reading a book, especially a romance. Somehow the twists and turns of the polt still catch you out, still make your stomach flip, even though you know exactly what’s going to happen. For the better part of four hours you’ve lain on your bed with your head at the foot and your feet up against the wall, reading. Already you’ve finished _ Me Before You _ and _ Soulmates. _ Now you’re in the middle of _ Perfected, _a novel about an alternate universe where some women exist as ‘pets’, genetically modified, breeded woman who are sold to the wealthy as ‘family companions’. The protagonist is a ‘pet’ named Ella who is perfectly content with her life until she falls for Penn, her master’s son. Her attraction for him is against every rule she’s every known but in him she finds a freedom that’s intoxicating. 

Sighing, you put the book down beside you and throw an arm over your eyes. In truth the main character us annoying. She’s vapid, dependant and naive, making her completely unlikable. This Penn character isn’t much better, he keeps trying to convince her that she needs him. Wake up, boo! You’re good on your own! Just run and keep running!

“Stupid charaters in this stupid romance novel that doesn’t make any sense,” you grumble to yourself. 

Steve and Sam walk past your room and are confused when they hear sounds from inside. They press there ears against the door to hear your complaints. Steve smiles to himself and goes to open the door but Sam, who heard about the earlier debacle, stops him. “I’ll go,” he whispers. Steve frowns but nods before continuing on to his room. Once Steve’s gone, Sam opens the door. 

You turn your head to the left to face your intruder. Sam gives you a half smile and come to sit by your feet, his back against the headboard. 

“Hey,” you greet, nudging his thigh with your foot.

Sam had always been your favourite of the bunch. No, scratch that, Sam had been the _ only _ of the bunch. You’d never really fit in with the group, they were all so brave and selfless and you just weren’t. They were all people who deserved their gifts, save Tony, but you’d never felt like you belonged with yours. They’d always been this extra part of you that you’d hid since birth. It made you different, flawed. It was hard to accept so you didn’t because who wants to be friends with the ‘fire freak’ as your high-school peers dubbed you. University was a chance to reinvent yourself so you hid your gift, wore gloves everywhere and stayed inside as much as possible because it was easier to control when you weren’t facing the actual elements. Suddenly you had _ friends. _The strong man who has known popularity all his life, may lose respect for that popularity, but a weak man knows the value of friendship. Somehow you were able to just ignore this part of you and become this new version of yourself. A version who was cool and popular.

Then it happened. There was a fire at the university, a chemistry experiment gone wrong. If this had happened in high school you would’ve just doused the fire in water but for some reason your gift wasn’t giving. No matter how much you focused you couldn’t get it to happen. So you ran. You panicked and hightailed it out of there. For twenty-two days you hid in an abandoned shop, living off £200 that you’d had in your purse intended as payment for an Argos purchase.

That’s where Fury found you, curled up in your dusty corner of the world. With the promise of food and shelter, they convinced you to haul your frail, malnourished body over to the Avengers Tower where they informed you that, due to negligence of your gift, it had receded. Not news you'd wanted to hear, naturally. They claimed that with the right training you would be able to draw them it out again so you signed a contract to join the Avengers. Two years later, here you are, twenty-four years old and still learning how to be yourself.

So many people think that you’re confident. The truth is you’re not confident, you’re simply still hiding behind a different personality. Your hope is that in time you won’t need a shield, you’ll find who you are and you’ll be damn proud of it. Until then, though, you’ll just have to get used to nights in. For some reason Sam’s the only one who’s managed to get through to you, connect with you, and you’re okay with that. It’s no longer important for you to be popular, now you just want one friend to tell everything to and that’s exactly what you have.

Sam, noticing that you’d retreated into your thoughts, poked your leg. “Dude, what’s up?”

“I just,” you sigh and sit up, “I just feel meh.” 

“What kind of meh?” he asks, reaching out to brush a piece of hair from your face. “PTSD meh or stress meh or what?”

“Steve meh,” you answer, covering your face with your hands. 

“Oh babe, tell me everything,” he requests, even though he knows exactly what happened. 

“I came in and he was talking about how he likes Sharon or whatever and, God, he’s just so… _ oblivious. _ It just… _ hurts, _ like there’s this hole in my heart and sometimes it just hurts. You know?” you admit in a rush, feeling embarrassed and stupid and _ small _. 

“No, I don’t know,” he tells me, “but I can imagine that it feels awful.” You just nod, unable to answer. “Look, why don’t you just go to movie night?” Immediately your head shoots up and you look at him quizzically. “Steve told me,” he explains. 

“You know what? Maybe I will go!” you declare, rolling off the bed and standing up. “I’m just gonna show him that I don’t care who he dates, I am my own woman and I don’t need him!”

“Wait, no!” he objects, scrambling off the bed and grabbing your wrist before you can leave. “That’s not what I meant at all!”

“Who cares?” you bite your lip over a smile. “It’s a great plan!”

“No! It’s really not!” he looks comically alarmed but you kiss his cheek and skip away, leaving him dumbfounded. “That girl,” he mutters, “she will be the death of me.”


	3. Love and Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An intimate movie night sets the dice rolling for you and Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I asked one of my friends who reads this (Hey Alex <3) if he thought it would be better for me to post small chapters often or long chapters rarely and he said the first one. So, yeah, enjoy.

Steve couldn’t keep the smile off his face. Bucky’s dumbass plan actually worked! You’d said yes to movie night! He practically skipped to the living room as he thought through the fool-proof plan. You’d show up looking gorgeous as always and Bucky would make up some excuse and leave the two of you alone. Maybe, just maybe, he would be able to make his move then. Steve vaulted over the back of the sofa and landed with a thump. Turning on the TV, he searched Netflix until he found your favourite film,  _ Crazy Rich Asians.  _ Hearing footsteps, he turns around and his eyes almost fall out of his head. 

You smirk to yourself as you stride in. You’d done the impossible, mixed comfort with beauty in a glamorous outfit: a lacy silk nightdress, your hair falling in luscious ringlets around your shoulders and down your back. 

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he flicks his eyes up to the ceiling and, in the most nonchalant tone he can manage, calls out, “Hey.” Too bad it comes out all croaky and hoarse. Internally cursing himself, he turns away from you, his cheeks to crimson for you too see. “You wanna sit?”

“Sure,” you say confidently, coming to sit beside him and folding your legs underneath you. Steve’s Adams apple bobs in his throat and he looks straight at the TV as he presses play. “We aren’t gonna wait for Bucky?” you ask, your voice soft and sweet. 

“He’s running late,” Steve explains, trying hard not to look at you, fearing that if he did he would say things he would regret. 

“Okay.” Shuffling slightly towards him, you let the back of your hand brush his leg. 

_ Come on, Steve, pull yourself together,  _ he inwardly chastises himself. You were just so  _ close  _ to him though, he can feel the warmth your body radiates and wants nothing more than to pull you close and love you like no other man could. He doesn’t, of course, he still retains an inkling of self-control, but just barely. Blinking rapidly, he tries to focus on the movie… and fails miserably. Everything you do is just so captivating, every flutter of your eyelashes mesmerising. He’s stuck in this impossible situation. Lord knows hat he wants you, more than any man has ever wanted someone, but he knows he would never be able to live with himself if you collapsed from the burden that is himself. You deserve better than him, better than the broken pieces of The Man Out Of Time. No-one should have to bear the weight of someone so shattered by change and loss.   
But it’s hard,  _ God,  _ it’s hard. Especially when you start to unconsciously nibble on your bottom lip in that adorable way you do when you were thinking about something.  _ God, you’re so amazing, so smart…  _ “So damn beautiful,” he murmurs. 

You look up, confused, when you hear Steve say something. “Hmm?” His eyes shoot up to meet yours, wide like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “You said something?” you ask. 

“Uh, nope, nothing,” he answers quickly, shaking his head vehemently. 

“You sure?” You raise one eyebrow, sceptical. 

“Completely,” he assures, his eyes suddenly turning soft, making your insides melt. God, those eyes, you could stare at them all day. Velvety black pupils shining through an iris drowned by ocean blue. 

“If you’re sure,  _ Captain,”  _ you purr, and Steve’s heart stops in his chest at the way you breathe his rank. 

“I’m sure,” he replies smoothly, surprised at the huskiness of his own voice and Lord knows it shocks you too. The hum of the TV becomes melts into the background as you stare into each others souls, closer together than light and air. A sudden vulnerability fills you as you gaze up at him, your eyes wide and innocent. He’s seeing you,  _ really seeing you, _ for the first time. The air is charged with tension as he reaches out a hand to take yours, lacing his fingers with your slender ones. An invisible string pulls you ever closer and he thinks to himself,  _ this is it,  _ and for a moment it feels that way.

Until the phone rings. 


	4. Pulled To You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve faces fear, love and vulnerability all at once when you're called away on a mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I be honest here? I'm not pleased with how this chapter turned out. No, scratch that, I'm not pleased with how this whole book is turning out. I had such a vision for it but nothing's working like it usually does. Ah shit, I might have to try something new with the next chapter. Anyway, enjoy it if you can.

Sighing, you roll away from Steve and get up to answer the compound phone that’s been ringing non-stop for five minutes. Rubbing your eyes, you answer, “Hello?”

“Agent L/N, learn to pick up your goddamn phone,” demands the commanding voice of The Director himself. Almost instantly, you straighten your back and inject more enthusiasm into your voice. “Yes sir, sorry sir.” Unlike Steve, you can’t afford to be critical of your boss, you’re too young an inexperienced. “How can I help?”

“There’s new evidence of life at and abandoned HYDRA base, we need you to investigate immediately,” he tells me, though I can hear from his tone that he’s multi-tasking with something else. 

“Of course, sir, but why me?” I ask, unsure as to why the youngest Avenger would be sent. 

“The hostiles have new weapons, flame based weapons, and you’re the best person to combat something of that nature, should it come to that,” he answers, before returning to his normal slightly surly tone. “Now have you got any more questions or can you do your job.”

“No sir, sorry sir,” you reply on autopilot before you hear the line go dead. 

Sighing once more, you place the phone back on it’s wall bracket and sart to head out or the room when Steve reminds you of his presence. “Fury?”

“Fury,” you confirm, giving him a nod. “Some not-so-abandoned HYDRA base.”

Immediately, Steve’s forehead creases with a frown.  _ Why is she going? It could be dangerous, what if she gets hurt? I can’t let her get hurt.  _

“I’ll go,” he claims, already standing. 

Your lips curl up slightly at the thought of him being protective but you quickly dismiss it.  _ He’s in love with Sharon, remember?  _ “Thanks, but I think I’ll be okay.” 

“Who’s going with you?” he asks, unable to hide his concern. 

“Not sure,” you tell him, “probably Tony?”

Before he can protest your out the door and off to your room to get changed. You’re outfit is heat-proof version of Natasha’s except that it’s accented with burnt orange instead of blue. Once packed and ready, you head to the roof and board the quinjet, letting my nerves about the mission drown out my spiraling thoughts on Steve. 

\------------- 

Steve knew it was childish and stupid but that didn’t stop him from racing up to the roof the second he received word that you’d landed. Can you really blame him? It’s been four days since he’s seen you and nothing kept him distracted for long enough to keep his mind off you. Finally, though, you were home. 

Throwing open the door, he sprints across the tarmac, the wind flying through his ruffled locks. “Y/N!” he yells before the ramp has even been lowered. You’re figure slowly becomes visible but he frowns.  _ Something’s wrong.  _ He takes a few steps closer and sees it, you’re leaning heavily on Tony, your eyes clouded and distant. Rushing towards the two of you, Steve scans your body for any visible wounds and lands on a red stain spread across the left of your abdomen. Flicking his eyes back up to yours, Steve, without consulting Tony, takes you into his arms but you’re too out of it to notice. Tony’s trying to say something but all Steve can hear is a rushing of blood in his ears. Trying to stay calm so as not to scare you, he rushes back inside the building and to the medical bay, shielding you with his body. Not bothering with the receptionist, Steve runs through the halls and bursts into a room at the end of the corridor where a very confused doctor stands.

“She’s hurt!” he shouts, though the room is quiet. “She needs medical attention!” Still the doctor doesn’t speak and Steve, growing frustrated, lays your limp body down on the bed. “Help her!” he demands, exasperated and more than a little terrified. 

Finally the useless medical professional speaks. “Captain,” he begins, nudging his glasses up his nose. “There’s nothing I can do.”

With those five word his whole world crumbles. “Oh God,” he whimpers, sinking to his knees beside you. “I love you, Y/N,” he chokes, tears pricking at his eyes like thorns. “I’m sorry. I should’ve come with you. I should’ve stopped this. I’m sorry. I love you. You’re so brave, you’re so-” a sob cuts him off and he’s unable to continue. 

Then there’s a tap on his shoulder. Through blurry vision, Steve looks at the doctor. “Maybe I phrased that wrong,” he admits, and hope prickles in Steve’s chest. 

“What?” he whispers. 

“I mean there’s nothing I can do because she’s already been treated,” the doctor explains. 

_ Oh thank you God!,  _ is his first thought, then,  _ Goddammit, doctor! I was so damn worried.  _

“I… is she gonna be okay?” Steve asks, getting to his feet and wiping at his tears, feeling stupid for getting so worked up. 

“She’ll be fine. She’s on anaesthesia so she’s a bit out of it, so she needs total bed rest,” he explains, and Steve feels his heart relax, knowing that you’ll be okay. “Though I’d appreciate if you took her out of this room.”

“Oh, of course,” Steve replies, picking you up once again and walking to the elevator. Now that he’s not fearing for your life, he allows himself to take you in. In the time when he set you down and now, your eyes have fluttered closed, your long eyelashes casting shadows across your cheeks, making you look young and innocent. A few strands of hair litter your forehead and as he steps out of the elevator, Steve brushes them away, gazing fondly at your sleeping form. A pretty blush dusts your cheeks like icing sugar on a mint leaf and he can’t help but kiss your forehead softly before laying you down in your bed. After arranging the covers over your body, he sits in the armchair beside your bed and watches you shift onto your side. “Sleep tight,” he whispers. 


	5. Another Woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you wake up you're confused to find Steve asleep beside your bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm dedicating this to my dear Alex Hartley.  
Darling, you're crazy, I'm crazy, we make a team of perfect madness and love it. Every day I wake up to a text from you and it just makes me smile. You make me smile. And I want us to be smiling together forever.  
All my love,  
CeCe x

When you wake up the first thing you notice is the sleeping super-soldier in you armchair. Your throat is dry enough that it aches when you swallow and you know that you need some water. When you go to fling my legs out of bed though, you feel a sharp stabbing pain through my side. Wincing, you lie back down, only then noticing that you’re in your uniform.  _ Why am I in my uniform? And why the hell is there blood on my side?  _ Groaning, you turn your head to Steve. You really need some water but you feel bad waking him up, he looks so calm asleep and Lord knows that you don’t get very many peaceful nights around here, PTSD makes sure of that. For a moment you suck it up and decide that you’ll wait for him to wake up but pain shoots up your body again and all resolutions fly out the window. “Steve,” you hiss, “Steve!” He doesn’t even flinch, he’s too stuck in his slumber. Your right hand fumbles around for a pillow and once you’ve found it, you launch it to your left. It hits Steve right in the middle of his forehead and he jolts awake, standing up and falling over almost immediately. You can’t help the laughter that bubbles in your throat and spills out of your lips. He looks at you blankly for a moment before joining in until you’re both split down the middle. “Oh… my… God,” you gasp, rolling onto your back again. “I… can’t believe… you just…”

“I know!” he exclaims, wiping a tear from his eyes. “So what did you wake me for?” he asks when you’ve calmed down. 

“I needed some water,” you admit sheepishly as Steve darts up to grab the glass he’d put on the dresser while you were sleeping. “I can’t really move. What happened by the by?”

“By the by?” Steve questions with a laugh, shaking his head.You were just too cute. 

“By the by,” you confirm, nodding resolutely. “What happened?”

“You were stabbed on a mission,” he tells you, quickly growing solemn. “Luckily there was a doctor on the jet and they fixed you up before you bled out. You were lucky, doll, really lucky.”

Shock grasps you around your chest and your fingers gingerly find your injury. Lifting your shirt slightly, you ee that there is indeed a stab wound, and it looks as though someone tried, unsuccessfully, to stitch it up. “You’re to be on total bedrest for the next week.”

“What?!” you bolt up in your shock and immediately slump against the bed again, feeling pain in every nerve on your body. 

“Hey, hey,” he says, stroking your hair. “Take it easy. What’s so bad about bedrest?”

“Macy set me up with a blind-date,” you explain, referencing your best friend. “Now I can’t go.”

Steve can’t help he way his blood boils at the thought of you with another guy and he takes a few deep breaths to calm down. “Who is this guy anyway?” he asks. 

“I don’t know. It’s a blind date, remember,” you remind him, furrowing your eyebrows. “Why do you care anyway?” you ask, nothing but curiosity in your voice. 

“I don’t,” he answers a little too hurriedly. 

“Right,” you mutter, turning away. “Of course you don’t.” 

“Hey,” he says, tilting your chin so you’re forced to look at him. 

He opens his mouth to say something further but you cut him off. “I should rest.”

God, you feel like a bitch but hurt still shoots at you when you think about Sharon. His blue eyes search yours for a moment. They're crystal blue, a shade that shouldn't exist on the human body, a shade you immediately crave, a shade that makes your heart beat a little bit faster. It's the most perfect blue to ever exist.  _ Yet those eyes belong to another woman,  _ you remind yourself. Breaking the eye-contact, you roll so you’re back is facing him and close your eyes. You don’t open them again until you hear the click of the door shutting and only then do you let the tears come. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***NOT PROOF READ***


	6. When The Party's Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot happen in a Tony Stark party...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***NOT PROOF READ***

A few months later you’re back to your usual self, feeling amazing at a party Tony had thrown to celebrate you coming off bed rest. Finally you were able to let loose, smiling, laughing and flirting with Steve finally off your mind. After crying about it for a few days, you built yourself off and decided that you’d had enough of his bullshit. If he wants to go out with that awful Sharon girl, so be it, you’d find yourself another man, and something told you that Bucky Barnes could be the one. Sure it was low of you to go for his best friend but, honestly, he’d hurt you more than words can say and you just wanted him to feel at least a little of the pain that you had. You know that it’s childish to want revenge but the heartache still pulled at you late at night.   
So there you were in your low cut, floor length tight dress that hugged your curves perfectly, and opposite you was Bucky Barnes himself, looking undoubtedly delicious in a sharp black tux, thought not as downright edible as the blonde who eyed you both with narrowed eyes from the other side of the ballroom.   
“So, doll,” Bucky drawls, taking a sip of his drink. “How come you’re here with me instead of Steve?”  
The question takes you by surprise and you struggle to find a reply. “I… I don’t know what you mean.”  
“C’mon, darlin’, you don’t think I see the way you two look at each other?” he raises an eyebrow and you sigh, giving in.   
“Alright, fine,” you say, lifting a hand to run through your curls. “I just… he just… Sharon.”  
“What?” his deep laugh is tainted with confusion. “Sharon?”  
You confirm it with a nod, lips turning down. “Steve just had to go and fall in love with Sharon and it hurts, Bucky. It hurts that he didn’t notice my affection and it hurts that he acts different around me and it just hurts.” you gush, feeling somewhat relieved to have gotten it off your chest.   
Bucky’s eyebrows knot in sympathy and you look down, embarrassed to be feeling the way you are over a guy. “Y/N,” he pauses for a second and you look up to see him chewing on his lip in thought. “Right. You wanna make him jealous? Let’s make him jealous. The punk has done more than enough to you.”  
“Why?” is all you can manage, gratitude washing over you.  
“I’ve watched you two for years, you’re obviously in love and you guys deserve that happiness more than anyone I know. Now where’s Sam? I need Sam!”   
He spots him surrounded by a gaggle of girls and waves him over. “This better be good,” Sam grumbles, “I coulda scored tonight.”  
“Hey!” Bucky objects, covering your ears. “Not in front of the lady!”  
“I’ve heard it all before,” you assure him, rolling your eyes affectionately at Sam.   
“Yeah, well it’s nice to have manners,” Bucky says and you can’t help it, you laugh. “What?”  
“You? Manners? Um… no,” you say, smiling. He sticks his tongue out at you and you poke him in the stomach.   
“Oi,” Sam interrupts, “What did you call me over here for? I got a hot blonde waiting for me.”  
“Samuel Thomas Wilson!” you exclaim, swatting his arm. “Women are not objects!”  
“Firstly, ow! Secondly, would you lot hurry up and tell me what this is about?” he pleads, signalling a drink from the bartender.   
“Okay, well Steve’s being a dick to Y/N,” Bucky explains, “so we’re gonna make him jealous.”  
“Oh I like the sound of that,” Sam agrees, rubbing his hands together evilly.   
“Wait, so what am I supposed to do?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows. Something didn’t sit right with you about having both his friends involved.   
“Just sit here, look pretty and follow my lead,” Bucky directs. Without giving you a chance to reply, the boys nod at each other and each loop an arm through one of yours. “Come, dollface,” Bucky drawls. “I wanna show you off to everyone.”  
Feeling bizarre, you just nod dumbly and let them pull you over to a couple only a few feet away from Steve and Sharon.   
“Hey guys,” Sam greets the couple, his voice a little louder than normal for Steve’s benefit. “Enjoying the party?”  
“Very much so,” the British woman replies with a cordial smile.   
“Good, good,” Sam nods and he and Bucky take their arms from yours. “I’d like to introduce you to this beautiful lady by my side. Katelyn, Jacob, meet Y/N L/N.”  
“It’s a pleasure,” you say, extending a hand which they both shake with a smile.   
“The pleasure’s all ours,” Jacob replies. “So when did you meet Sam and James?”  
“James?” you ask, confused.  
“That’s me, doll,” Bucky slides an arm around your waist pulling you into his side. Right, this isn’t weird at all.   
“Oh, of course. I actually them both a week or so after I moved in. They’re both such lovely people, and James had been especially welcoming.”   
Bucky kisses the top of your head and you mouth an apology to Sam who looks hurt. Sorry, too weird. By that you mean that it’s too strange to be like this (this being some weird flirting) with your best friend. Bucky, however, is fair game. “I’d love to let you guys get to know each other,” Bucky says, “but I would love to dance with this lovely dame. May I, sweetheart?”  
“Of course,” you reply, nodding a goodbye at the couple before taking Bucky’s offered hand and letting him lead you onto the dance floor. The slow waltz that’s been playing all night increases in volume and Bucky places both arms around your waist and you sling yours around his neck. “Is it working?” you whisper, leaning your forehead on his.   
He glances over my shoulder and grins, “Like a charm.”  
“Really?” you ask, unable to hide the hope in your voice as you both sway back and forth. You can feel the cool of his metal hand through your dress and when you shiver there’s a growl from behind you. Whipping your head around, you see Steve with Sharon mirroring yourself and Bucky but instead of looking at the lady in front of him, Steve’s locking eyes with you. Feeling a blush spread up your neck from his intense glare, you look back at Bucky, raising both your eyebrows in a, he looks mad, gesture. Trust me, it’ll work, he says with a wiggle of his eyebrows.   
“Bucky,” you sigh, your voice full of warning.   
“Yes, doll?” he smirks at you and you shake my head, smiling.   
“You’re crazy,” you tell him.   
“And you love it,” he replies with a wink. 

Steve is livid. Bucky knows all about his adoration for you but there he is by the bar, laughing and smiling with you like Steve should’ve been. Instead he was stuck pretending to listen to some mundane story that Sharon was telling him. Sure, Sharon was a perfectly sweet, perfectly attractive woman but whenever she shared a dull memory, he’d hear your voice in his head, interrupting her with a snarky quip that was sure to make him smile.   
And yet it’s Bucky who gets to hear the liquid velvet spill from your lips, Bucky who leads you onto the dance floor with a smooth flourish. Steve’s grip tightens on his glass and frown lines crease his forehead.   
“Steve?” a soft touch on his arm brings him back and he looks down at Sharon, trying to hide is irritation.   
It’s not her fault she’s not you, he remind himself, it’s not her fault that her eyes don’t twinkle when they catch the light, that her hair doesn’t smell like fresh roses, that her smile doesn’t brighten a room.   
“Steven?” she repeats, and he has to exert a lit of self-control in order to not yank his arm away from her touch.  
“Do you wanna dance?” he asks suddenly, feeling guilty when her face lights up.   
“I’d love to!” she exclaims. He rather forcefully takes her to the dance floor and moves to be facing your back and he can’t help it, he glares daggers at Bucky. You’re petite frame rests against his as you sway back and forth, your body effortlessly finding the rhythm. Then he sees you shiver from Bucky’s touch and he literally growls.   
Surprised, you turn to face him and he catches a glimpse of hurt in your eyes before you turn back to your partner.   
He can’t take his eyes off the pair of you and when he sees Bucky wink flirtatiously at you he can’t stand it any longer. Pushing Sharon away from him, he storms off and disappears into the elevator. Just as the door closes he witnesses you doubling over with laughter and, even though he knows it’s ridiculous...  
...he thinks that it’s at him.


End file.
